Country Boy John
by iamapieceoftrash
Summary: A crack fic based on country/southern stereotypes. Please keep in mind that this is a joke and that spelling/grammar errors are intentional.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One—A Day in the Life of John Watson

It was a fine summer day when John Watson awoke. He got out of bed and pulled on his finest pair of overalls. Then he put on is favorite cowboy boots.

After checking to make sure he'd perfected the shirtless-overalls look, he went to the bathroom and brushed his tooth. When he went downstairs, he discovered that his sister, Harry, was already awake.

"Hey, Harry," he said, giving her a meaningful look. "Pickup truck?"

She grinned a wide, gummy smile. "Pickup truck." (A/N: Maybe "pickup truck" will be their "always")

They raced outside as John told her, "I've got a whole gallon of booze in the back."

"Well, good thing I 'm wearing my best blue jeans," she replied excitedly.

Harry hopped in the back of the truck and hollered with glee as John turned the key, causing the truck to roar to life. She took a sip of booze then handed it to John, who took a refreshing gulp.

As they were driving, John spit out the window. Much to his delight, his final tooth flew out!

"Woohoo!" Harry crowed. "Would ya look at that! You're finally a man!"

John mustered up his gummiest smile and Harry grinned back, her lazy eye making her look so beautiful. She stuck her hand through the window and they intertwined all of their fingers except for the seventh—that one's for pinky promises.

 _What a great day,_ John thought as the breeze hit his shirtless chest. _What a great day indeed._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two—New-Age Thinkin'

One afternoon, John and Harry were driving to town in their pickup truck. Harry was sitting in the back with a bottle of booze and was wearing a flannel shirt and overalls. John was wearing blue jeans, no shirt, and a cowboy hat.

"Here you go, Johnny-boy," Harry said, passing him the bottle of booze.

John was about to take a sip when he saw _him._ Standing on the sidewalk was none other than Sherlock Holmes. John stomped on the brake, jolting the car forwards. He had never seen Sherlock before.

As he took in Sherlock's appearance, John became amazed by how much of a country boy this stranger was. He wore a snazzy pair of grass-stained overalls that left his scrawny chest bare. Perched atop his head was an even better cowboy hat than John's.

"Who is that?" John asked Harry, unable to take his eyes off the gorgeous stranger.

"That's Sherlock Holmes," she replied before taking a swig of booze. She seemed to notice the direction of John's thoughts because she added, "He's already dating his brother, Mycroft. Plus, you two ain't even related!"

"Times are changing!" John urged. "People are more accepting now! They're beginning to accept that two people who ain't related can be together."

Harry shook her head. "I'll never be able to wrap my head around your new-age thinkin'. It's just strange. I mean, we have siblings for a reason."

John sighed. "Hey, now. I'm not going to run off to be with him. It's you an' me, Harry. You an' me till the end."

"Pinky promise?" she asked, holding up her seventh finger.

"Of course," he replied. Bu when they shook seventh fingers, he secretly used his sixth finger.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three—The Spiral of Lies Begins

It was later that day that John decided to run in to town. He told Harry that he forgot to get milk, then jogged out the door at a brisk pace.

He decided to walk to town since he didn't feel right about using the pickup truck behind Harry's back. The way he saw it, he wasn't really lying. There was no way to be sure that he'd see Sherlock Holmes.

He had just thought this when he bumped into a tall stranger. With a gasp, John realized it was none other than Sherlock Holmes.

"I'm sorry," he choked out as Sherlock's pale eyes analyzed him. He thought he saw Sherlock's mouth quirk up into the tiniest of smiles.

"Would you like to do something with me tomorrow?" Sherlock asked, a bemused glint in his eyes.

"Well, I, uh, I don't know if, um, if I can," John stuttered.

"Just say you're goin' to the cattle show," Sherlock replied.

"Well, okay then," John said. "I guess I can."

Sherlock grinned and John noticed he still had four teeth left. "Meet me in the town center at noon."

Sherlock turned to leave and John sighed to himself. The spiral of lies had truly begun.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four—Caramel-Covered Roadkill Squirrel

The next day, John began to prepare to meet Sherlock. He tried on three different pairs of shirtless overalls before settling on the pair that matched his cowboy boots.

"Why's you lookin' so fancy?" Harry asked, barging into his room.

"No reason," John replied too quickly. "Just going to the cattle show."

"But you 'nd I always go to the cattle show together." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you going with that no-good Sherlock Holmes?"

John blushed. "Of course not. Don't be stupid, Harry."

"Well, good. Like I said before, it just ain't right. You two isn't related. Next thing ya know, you's gonna be sayin' you hate the cattle show, blue jeans, or even," she paused dramatically then whispered, "riding in the pickup truck."

John gasped, completely flabbergasted. "Never! Harry, don't you know me better than that? I made a pinky promise!" He pushed down the twinge of guilt that accompanied the lie and continued. "You're my gal, Harry. But am I still your guy?"

"Of course you is," she said, the _duh_ implied.

John smiled. "Pickup truck?"

Her face softened. "Pickup truck."

"Alright then, I'd best be off. I'll bring you a caramel-covered roadkill squirrel."

She squealed and clapped her hands. "Oh! That's my favorite! Then can we go pickup truck riding later?"

"O' course," he agreed, kissing her on the cheek. "I'll pick up some beer while I'm in town."

Then he grabbed his cowboy hat and bounded out the door to meet Sherlock.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five—Figuring Out the Key to Sherlock's Heart

John saw Sherlock standing across the road and took in his outfit with envy. Sherlock was wearing a pair of the bluest blue jeans around, complete with designer suspender. John wished he could get a fancy pair of suspenders like that.

Sherlock grinned as John jogged over and raised his hand in a wave. John noticed the dirt caked under each of Sherlock's seven fingers. As soon as he lost those pesky teeth, he'd be a very manly man.

"You ever been to one of these before?" Sherlock asked as John stopped beside him.

"Every year," John replied. "You?"

"This is the first time I've ever gone."

John's eyes widened. "Seriously?" Sherlock nodded. "How come?"

"I solve mysteries. It keeps me real busy." John blanched. Solving mysteries was practically unheard of.

Sherlock looked across the street at the cattle show and John stared at him from the corner of his droopy eye. John had never thought about being a detective before but now he considered it.

There really was only one mystery he wanted to solve. He wanted to figure out the key to Sherlock's heart.

Sherlock pointed in amazement at the cattle in the show and the crowd hooted and hollered in appreciation. He grabbed John's hand, pulling him along, and John stared at the way their seven fingers intertwined perfectly.

They held hands the rest of the show and even shared a caramel-covered possum on a stick.

"I wasn't sure how it would be," Sherlock said. "But that was a great show."

"Yeah," John agreed.

"C'mon," Sherlock murmured, tugging John along. "I got something I want to show you but we're gonna need to ride a horse to get there."


End file.
